As You King
by When.its.never.ending
Summary: Four months into their marriage, America is blissfully happy in every aspect of her life . . . Except her marriage bed. It's not that he's bad at it. He just treats her life a doll of glass he can't even kiss with too much force. They fight, and Maxon shows there is more to him than just the gentle Prince. He can be the King. Her King.


**Summary:** Four months into their marriage, America is blissfully happy in every aspect of her life . . . Except her marriage bed. It's not that he's bad at it. He just treats her life a doll of glass he can't even kiss with too much force. They fight, and Maxon shows there is more to him than just the gentle Prince.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own the selection series. Also, I don't own any of Maxon's 'research' those are real responses from the websites cited in the work

 **America** :

"Ames just tell me what's wrong." He pleads.

"Nothing's wrong Maxon! Just leave it alone." I roll over to my other side.

"I can't leave it alone. I love you. Let me fix this."

"You always want to fix things Maxon! Did you ever stop and think that maybe what I have to say is what's going to break us? Not everything's fixable!"

"Nothing will ever break us, America." His voice is steel and I can hear the anger beginning. When I said nothing thing we grabbed my shoulder and forced me to roll back over to face him. "And it can be fixed if you just tell me what's wrong!"

"I already told you to leave me alone!" I threw the covers back and stomped over towards my room. "I'm sleeping in my own bed tonight."

I had just reached the door when i was jerked back. "Tell me whats wrong America," he growled. His arms caged me against the wall. He was furious.

It had been four days since we last made love. I was always 'tired' or 'not in the mood' but pushed up against that wall I felt something shoot through me. Desire. I crushed my lips to his in a desperate attempt to get what I need. I tugged on his hair and pulled him so close our teeth were gnashing.

He yanked back "What's gotten into you, America?"

"This Maxon!" I shoved him back from me. "I'm not a porcelain doll! Kiss me. Touch me. Let me explore without having to worry about your judgement."

"I do kiss you!" He cried indignantly. Of course that was all he heard.

"Sure. You do kiss me. But you still kiss me like we're in the beginning of a relationship. I'm your wife, Maxon! I'm yours! Act like it! Take what you want! Guide me, led me, _dominate_ me!"

His eyes went wide at my confession but I didn't give him time to respond. I flew over to my door and slammed it behind me. Running to my bed I collapsed, sobbing. I had been there for over an hour when I finally cried myself to sleep.

 **Maxon** :

Dominate her. What the hell does that mean? I was standing in the safe were we kept the diaries, logging onto the computer. Not that I imagined I'd find the answer in these books but there was something else that might help me. Not only did this computer have access to the knowledge of these books, it was one of the only entry points into the old databases. I had never used them before, I found it hypocritical for it to be withheld from the general public to the point that it was illegal, and then to use it myself. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

I was nearly positive what America meant was something sexual, and the only place to find my answers was to go back to a time when it was part of the culture. The internet came up and I typed in the excessive password i had inherited when my father died. Into the search engine I typed 'what does it mean to dominate a women?'

The results were instantaneous. I clicked on the first result, something called Yahoo. The question was: "My girlfriend wants me to dominate her. . . What does that mean?"

 _Best Answer: "She wants you to take charge. I know you have seen movies where the guy not only orders the girl into service but also you need to make her admit it to herself verbally that she is submitting to you. Domination is mostly mental helping her to get past the normal roles of equality and be a little sex slave. Some ideas for you is to make her undress you, run your shower, wash you orally, service you in the shower. . . remember be verbally commanding during this. Use her hair as a handle to guide her where you want her to go. Order her to get you a drink and or a snack. Order her to dance and do the stripper thing for you, make her ask to service you again. Then while taking her make her admit she is your little sex toy and will submit to you whenever wherever you want. Remember to follow through on these ideas at a later date. After hold her close let her know you love your little sex slave make up a new slave name for her and always call her by that name when engaging in dom activities."_

Holy. Shit.

America couldn't want that. Could she? Sex slave? Wash me orally? Submit to whatever I wanted? Service me?—what the hell did that even mean?

I went back up to the search engine and typed in 'Service a man' and something called the Urban Diction came up with an entry under 'Blowjob'. I clicked on it. The page came up and there were many definitions on the page. It took about three entries before I really got the picture.

 _1). v. generally oral sex performed on a male_

 _2). Something I am very, very good at...and I swallow_

 _3). When us young ladies put our mouth's on a guys cock and suck repeatedly until they reach orgasm. Giving a blowjob should not be looked upon as a chore, but as a pleasurable thing for both involved. Be sure to pay attention to the whole penis, not just the head. Swirl your tongue around the tip while pumping him with your fist or both, if you like. Lovingly message his balls and always deepthroat it. Alternate your speed when sucking a cock, showing your guy that him coming in your mouth is your top priority. And when he does start to come don't stop what you're doing, suck until he's done. And always swallow with a smile._

A memory of America beginning to do something similar flashed in my head. I had been confused and pulled her away before her lips got the chance to touch me. I remembered the dejected look she had gotten but that I had kissed away. Now I was realizing I didn't really kiss anything away, just pushed it off until later.

if she wanted me to dominate her, then I would sure as hell find a way. So I started my research. Words like 'slave,' 'pleasure,' and 'Master' continued to come up. I was supposed to treat my wife like a toy to get my own pleasure from? And if she resisted I was supposed to _punish_ her? Her words "I'm yours! Act like it!" from earlier came to mind.

My dick was straining painfully against my sweats by the time I was finished. I looked at the clock. It had only been a couple hours. I smiled like a predator stalking its prey. I hoped America knew what she was asking for.


End file.
